


whatever you wish for, you keep

by desastrista



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Crack, Crossdressing, Fluff, M/M, The Aliens Ship It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desastrista/pseuds/desastrista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The canon-compliant Voltron fairy tale AU no one asked for. </p>
<p>The one where Team Voltron goes to investigate an alien planet, and the mission goes south, but they all still get their happily ever afters, Keith and Shiro even more so. Or: the one where Keith just keeps being cast as the princess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	whatever you wish for, you keep

**Author's Note:**

> I use "her" pronouns for Pidge in this fic. 
> 
> What's the fun of being in a fandom with a whole galaxy to explore if you can't use aliens as pretext for very strange AUs? Make space weird again.

“I don’t know, all I’m saying is, I don’t think things are that bad,” Hunk said. 

At least, that’s what it sounded like he said; Pidge had a hard time making out the words because he said it between bites of cake. The witch had brought him a chocolate cake and an accompanying bowl of ice cream. When Hunk said things not being “that bad”, Pidge assumed that’s what he was talking about. 

“Hunk,” she whispered back, lest the witch overhear. “ _She is going to eat you._ ” 

The witch had locked Hunk up in a cage. Pidge had to whisper to him between the bars of the cell. By her standards, this was “that bad”. At least, Pidge consoled herself, she wasn’t locked up. But the witch only let her free to cook and clean. It was not that much better. Pidge also highly doubted the witch would keep up this arrangement for both of them that much longer. 

But Hunk did not seem to share her worries. “It’s fine,” he said. “Look, I’ve got this bone – as long as I can keep fooling the witch with it, I’ll be fine.” 

Pidge had a few choice words to say on the subject and they were all on the tip of her tongue when a voice cut through her thoughts. 

_Paladins,_ the voice said. _Paladins, you must focus._

It was a woman’s voice – familiar, somehow, but Pidge could not seem to remember. 

“Pidge,” Hunk’s voice sounded hollow. She turned back to her brother. He seemed shaken. “Did you just hear --” 

But before he could say anything, the witch returned. She shoved Pidge out of the way as she made her way to Hunk’s cage. “Show me your finger, boy,” she said. Hunk just gave a shrug in Pidge’s direction and held up the bone. 

They’d done this before. In the past, the witch had always just made a disapproving noise and then left Hunk alone. But this time, she kept her hand on the bone. “Still so thin,” she said, half to herself, before turning back to Pidge. The witch’s expression had always been hard to read, with her strange pupil-less yellow eyes that contrasted so sharply with the purple of her face. But Pidge had the feeling that the witch had just made up her mind. Hunk looked relieved; Pidge wasn’t so sure. 

“Girl,” the witch snapped. “Prepare the oven.” 

_Paladins,_ the voice came again, authoritative yet undoubtedly worried too. _I don’t know what you’re seeing, but you have to realize this isn’t real._

Pidge knew that voice, she knew she did, she just had to remember – but when she tried to think about the voice, the world seemed somehow to blur or contort and she could barely remember her own name. 

She had to focus. She started the fire. 

“That’s it,” the witch said. Her voice rang out, sickly sweet. It was the voice that the witch had used when Hunk and Pidge had gotten separated from the other three members of their family. Pidge was glad that her parents, Shiro and Keith, and brother Lance seemed to have escaped the witch’s clutches. 

The witch had seemed so nice, at the time, letting them eat the candy off her house. It was that voice. She had fooled Hunk and Pidge before. 

“Make sure the fire is hot, really lean in to see --” 

They would not be fooled again. 

“I’m not sure I understand,” Pidge said, doing her best to sound concerned. “Can you show me?” 

The witch let out a disappointed huff. “I have to do everything myself,” she muttered bitterly as she leaned into the stove to check on the flames. 

Pidge pushed her in and then suddenly the world went black. 

 

***** 

 

When Pidge woke up, she was in a large stone room, bigger than anything she’d seen before. And it was full, absolutely full to the bursting, with straw. Nothing but straw. Only straw as far as the eye could see. Except just in front of her, where there was a spinning wheel. A big yellow mouse sat on it, looking at her plaintively. 

Her head started to hurt. She’d just been in a house made of candy. What was she doing here? She blinked. No, of course she was here. There was a tower. Her father had told the King of the realm that his daughter was so smart he’d figured out a way to spin straw into gold. And so the King and his queen had put her in the Tower with all this straw to spin it into gold. Except Pidge had no idea how to spin straw into gold. Her father was always asking her to do things she couldn’t do, like wait for him to come back – 

“Why hello there,” a voice called out, interrupting her thoughts. “I see you’ve got yourself quite in a dilemma.” 

It was an imp. Admittedly, this imp was a fair bit taller than her, but still Pidge knew that it was an imp. It was dressed all in blue and grinning from ear to ear in a decidedly impish way. 

“I happen to be an expert on these things,” he started, but Pidge was no longer listening. 

She knew this imp. 

She knew the imp. She knew she wasn’t supposed to – she was supposed to be shocked that someone had appeared, claiming to be able to spin straw into gold – but no. She definitely knew him.

“Lance?” she asked. 

Something strange was going on. It had to be – a spell, of some sorts, Pidge decided. Allura had been trying to warn them; she was the voice Pidge had heard from before. Slowly, the memories resurfaced in their mind. As Voltron, the five of them had been exploring a planet, and something – something had happened. 

Her head again. She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hands. 

She was a Paladin of Voltron. She was a miller’s daughter. She was...both? 

_Paladins,_ Allura’s voice was in her head again. _You were exploring rumors of Galran activity on Hecate. Some of the wildlife on the planet excretes a chemical that can cause collective hallucinations. From our readings, something went wrong with the ventilation in your suits and you were exposed. Whatever you are seeing, it is not real, but it is very dangerous._

“Pidge, Lance,” squeaked the mouse. “What the hell is going on?” 

Lance looked confused. “That’s not – my name,” he started, although he sounded uncertain. 

“Yes, yes it is,” Pidge pressed. “Lance, we’re on an alien planet, this is a spell – a hallucination – you just think your name is Rumpelstiltskin --” 

And then everything faded to black. 

 

***** 

 

This time, Pidge was ready. 

As soon as she came to, she shouted out, “You guys!” 

Thunder clapped in the distance. 

Three heads turned to stare at her. Fighting against whatever it was that was controlling them, she forced herself to remember. Shiro. Hunk. Lance. All standing around, all wearing clothes that would not have been out of place at a renaissance festival. 

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked. 

“There’s something – controlling us.” Pidge started to repeat the message from Allura. She watched the face of the other Paladins nervously as she talked. At first, they looked at her as if she had grown a second head – but then slowly she saw signs of recognition. 

“Yeah,” Lance said. “We were exploring some strange readings from a cave and – what am I doing wearing this?”

“It seems our collective hallucination is fairy tales,” Pidge explained. “This is the third one, at least that I can remember. There was Hansel and Gretel, and then Rumpelstiltsken.” 

Hunk looked suddenly alert. “I do remember!” he said. “Man, that cake was good.” 

“You almost died!” 

Hunk just shrugged in response. He looked around curiously. “So if we’re in a fairy tale, which one is this?” 

A flash of lightning threw the room into sharp relief. Pidge turned to stare out the window. Rain beat hard against the glass. “I don’t know,” she said. “What’s a fairy tale with a storm?” 

“And where’s Keith?” Shiro asked. 

Everyone looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

And then they heard a knock on the door.

Opening the doors to the castle, they were greeted with the answer to Shiro’s question: there was Keith. He looked half-drowned. He was also wearing a very waterlogged dressed. 

“I’ve lost my way,” he started. “And then I got caught in this storm. Would I be able to get shelter for the night?” And then – “Why are you all looking at me funny?” 

 

***** 

It didn’t take long to explain the situation to – and fetch some dryer clothes for – Keith. 

“Fairy tales?” he asked. “What kind of alien planet has chemicals makes you live through fairy tales?” 

“I don’t know,” Pidge said. “Has anyone heard Allura? She’s been able to get in a few words. I think she’s transmitting from the Castle.” 

They spent a few minutes, walking through the castle, trying to call out for her. Nothing worked. 

“This sucks,” Keith said finally. “Are we just – going to be stuck doing fairytales forever?” He frowned. “I don’t even know that many.”

“Yeah,” Hunk added. “Also, most of them don’t have houses made of candy, so I think they’ll all be a disappointment after Hansel and Gretel.” 

“No way,” Pidge replied. “Rumpelstitsken is clearly the best – the miller’s daughter saves the day by outsmarting everyone else in that story.” 

Shiro looked contemplative. “Hunk,” he said. “If your favorite was the first one we saw, and Pidge yours was the second – maybe whatever this is is just going through the group.” 

Pidge had to fight a sudden feeling of disassociation. She shushed the rest of the group. 

_Paladins,_ came the voice again. Pidge couldn’t help but notice that her voice sounded even more emphatic than before. 

“Allura!” Pidge shouted. “Can you hear us?” 

_Paladins, I’m not sure my messages are getting through. But if you can hear me – this chemical is very dangerous. The plant that produces it is trying to devour you. It will make you want to stay in the dream forever, to not wake up. Be careful – if you give in, if you try to fight waking up for too long, the plant will start to consume you. You have to wake up._

“It doesn’t seem like she can hear us,” Hunk said. He looked paler than normal. “Well,” he said, hollowly, “at least we know what we’re up against.” 

“One dream per dreamer – that seems straightforward,” Shiro pointed out. “So far, we’ve seen Hunk and Pidge’s. We’re halfway there. We just have to keep on going. So now, whose dream is this?” 

“I don’t even recognize this fairytale,” Pidge complained. 

Hunk, Keith, and Shiro also shook their heads. 

“So,” Lance asked. All the other Paladins looked shaken by the news that Allura had given them, but Lance was starting to smile. “We just have to act out the fairytale, and then the dream ends?” 

“Yeah,” Pidge said. “Seems like it – the first one ended when the witch – er, Galran – died, the second when Rumpelstiltsken was named.” 

“I still can’t believe I was Rumpelstiltsken,” Lance lamented. “I mean, seriously. Is that how you see me, Pidge?” 

Pidge just shot him a cold look. “As an annoying trickster?” 

“Ok, alright, I see where this is going,” Lance cut in quickly. “Well,” he rubbed his hands together. Whatever this fairytale was, he was definitely enjoying this. “Good news everyone. Today is my lucky day. Because today we are acting out – the Princess and the Pea!” 

He said it with a dramatic flair that fell totally flat with his audience. (“That’s a weird one,” complained Hunk. “Aren’t we all supposed to be frogs?” asked a confused Keith.) Lance rallied, though. “Today is a great day to be Queen.” 

“Why?” asked Pidge. 

“Because Keith is obviously the Princess,” Lance said, as if it were obvious. “I have a son I’m marrying off, but of course Shiro you can only be married to a true princess. And so now Keith comes along, and I’m supposed to test whether or not he is a truly good match for my son.” Normally, Pidge found herself thinking, Lance would have pounced on the strange reaction his words were having on Keith, who seemed to have suddenly taken a great interest in his shoes. But it seemed Lance was too busy reveling to notice. “And to do that,” he concluded, “I’m going to put a pea under his mattress. He won’t be able to get a good night’s sleep.” 

“Is your favorite fairy tale just about annoying me?” Keith asked in disbelief. 

“Yes, it is, and yes, I am proud of that,” Lance said with a solemn nod. 

Shiro cut in before Keith could respond. “Well, let’s get this over with. Seems straightforward enough.” 

They stacked up the dozens of mattresses they found waiting in the castle for them. Lance crowed enough about being able to lay down the pea that Keith would have to sleep on that Shiro had to remind him of the danger that Allura had told them about if they could not wake up in time. 

The pea looked small and inconsequential to Pidge. She rolled her eyes. This fairy tale seemed very questionable. 

The next morning, Keith woke up much later than the rest of them. 

“How did you sleep, Princess?” Lance asked. 

Keith’s reply would not be fit to print in a children’s book. 

But it was enough, and the world went black. 

 

***** 

 

When Pidge woke up, she saw a big stone room. No doubt it was the inside of a castle. By now castles were just becoming standard. But the sheer size of it still took her by surprise. A giant’s castle? Her mind raced. Maybe Jack and the Giant Beanstalk? Whose fairy tale would that be? 

But a glance at Keith and Lance quickly caught her up to speed. The room was not, in fact, giant. She just happened to be smaller than usual. And looking down at her hands, they seemed quite greener than usual. 

And Keith’s already too-long hair was more than a bit longer than usual. 

“Keith,” she asked, her voice made squeaky by her reptilian body. “You do realize that there’s a difference between a Disney movie and a fairy tale, _and that real fairy tales do not involve iguanas?”_

“I think he was a chameleon,” sulked Keith. “Also, I don’t think he talked.” 

“Wow, knowing this is your favorite fairy tale really puts the mullet in perspective,” Lance commented. “Rapunzel, really?” 

Keith just shrugged. “I liked the movie,” he said. “I didn’t grow up with anyone to read fairy tales to me. But I did watch the movies.” 

“Keith,” Hunk’s voice floated in through the window. “Keith.” 

“Is Hunk your Prince?” asked Lance in confusion. “I guess you better go drop him your hair.” 

“That – doesn’t seem right,” Keith said. The three of them went to the window and looked down. 

The cause of Hunk’s protests were immediately obvious. “Keith,” he called out again, “I want you to know, I’m not mad. There’s not that many roles in Rapunzel, and at least I’m not the evil witch. I’m sure that’s Lance.” (“Hey”, protested Lance, “Oh wait,” he said, looking down at his outfit, “he’s right.”) 

Hunk tossed his mane in impatience. “But really, Keith, the horse?” 

Pidge sympathized, although as a lizard her voice didn’t carry, so had to content herself by standing on the windowsill and raising her fists in agreement. 

Shiro, who was decidedly not a horse, gave them a wave. 

“Keith,” he said. “I, uh, don’t really know why a horse is a character in Rapunzel. But I think I’ve got the rest of this down. So,” he opened his hands wide, clearly enjoying this moment, “Keith, Keith, let down your long hair.” 

Keith was so contrary that Pidge almost expected him not to do it, but he just let out an amused huff, and unceremoniously threw his hair down. 

The world went black as Shiro climbed in through the window. 

 

***** 

 

It didn’t surprise Shiro that they were at a ball. 

He didn’t know about the rest of the paladins, but it wasn’t like he would have been able to choose a favorite fairy tale right off the top of his head. But it seemed like this strange alient – carnivore, chemical – whatever it was had made a pretty good guess. 

It was easy to spot Lance, Hunk, and Pidge. They were all standing close to him and dressed lavishly for the ball. And they all seemed to have remembered who they were easily – although Pidge snapped at Lance when he seemed a little too intent on flirting with the courtier standing next to him. 

“Remember,” Pidge said. “We have to make sure that we don’t get caught up in this – collective dream, or whatever.” 

“This is the last one, right?” Hunk asked. “So it has to be Shiro’s. Do you know what it is? It just seems like – a ball.” He looked contemplative. “Aren’t there a few of those? I’m not sure what that one could be.” 

“I have a pretty good guess,” Shiro said. 

He turned back to face the doors leading in to the ballroom. After all, the entrance was such an important part of the story. 

The doors opened to reveal Keith. Shiro couldn’t help but laugh. Keith – or the dream, whatever was deciding this – had gotten some of the key details right. A big, elegant ballgown. Glass slippers. But Shiro seriously doubted that there was any version of this story where Cinderella had entered the ball with such a scowl on her face. 

“You’ll excuse me,” he turned to the other paladins, “The fairy tale is calling.” 

He kept his eyes on Keith as he walked down the stairs. Keith, it seemed, had just discovered his glass slippers, and was looking at them with a deep suspicion. By the time Shiro reached him, he was trying to kick them off. 

“Please, keep the shoes on,” he said. “It’s hard to dance without them.” 

Keith gave him a wary look. “Is that an invitation?”

Shiro reached out his arm, and Keith accepted. 

True to the fairy tale, everyone parted from the dance floor to give them space. Whether that was a curse or a blessing, though, Shiro couldn’t decide. He had learned to ballroom dance in the Academy, but he barely remembered any of it; Keith was little better. Mostly they swayed, and Shiro was thankful that the story of Cinderella did not hinge on any particularly good dance moves. 

“I can’t believe I’m the Princess again,” Keith complained. 

“Really,” Shiro asked playfully, “my dream and you weren’t expecting that?” 

A blush spread across Keith’s face, but he just muttered, “I should have been Flynn Rider,” he said. “Not Rapunzel.” 

“I don’t think I have the hair to be Rapunzel,” Shiro pointed out. 

Keith laughed, but there was a rueful note in it. Before Shiro could say anything, though, Keith continued, “If I’m being honest – yes, I am surprised that this is the fairy tale you chose. Or that got chose for you. Whatever.” 

That took Shiro by surprise. “What were you expecting?” 

“Is there any fairytale about just being a great pilot and leader?” 

Shiro got a good laugh at that. Almost reluctantly, Keith joined in. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “But I definitely prefer this one.”

“Shiro,” Keith started. He looked doubtful. 

“It’s been like this in every fairy tale so far,” Shiro felt compelled to point out. “The parents in Hansel and Gretel. The royal family in Rumpelstilsken. The prince and the princess, first with the pea, then with Rapunzel, and now Cinderella, and yet still you don’t look like you think it’s real.” 

“But this isn’t real, Shiro. It’s just a dream.” 

“Not all of it.” 

A bell rang out. Another bell followed. Shiro turned around. There was a large clock in the ballroom. It had just struck midnight. He turned back to Keith, who was looking at the clock with a strangely bittersweet gaze. 

“Cinderella loses everything at midnight,” he half-muttered to himself. 

That was it, Shiro found himself thinking with a start; that was how the dream was going to get them. He should have known it was Keith, so stubborn and headstrong, who would be the one most in danger of refusing to give up a dream. 

“Cinderella didn’t lose everything at midnight,” Shiro said, with a sudden urgency. “That’s not how the story ends. She doesn’t marry the Prince at the ball when she’s disguised as a Princess. He finds out who she really is, and he loves her for it.” 

He leaned down to brush his lips against Keith’s. It was Keith who wrapped his arm around Shiro’s neck and kissed him. 

The world went black. 

 

***** 

 

They all woke up at the same time, exactly where they had fallen asleep. They were on a cave. A strange, iridescent moss had started to grow on them. But its hold was still weak: they brushed it off easily. When they left the cave, Pidge discovered some of the spores that had blocked the ventilation in their suits and was able to clear it out before they returned back to the Castle of the Lions. 

Keith kissed Shiro again, once they were safely back inside. A nice, slow kiss. No alien chemicals, no princesses, no carriages that would become pumpkins. Just a kiss that promised many more like it to come.

For Shiro, it was better than happily ever after.


End file.
